The Piano
by blushed-at-a-mere-nothing
Summary: Grantaire's thoughts during the battle. Rated T for language and possible future adult-ish themes. I DO NOT OWN LES MISERABLES. (Duh.)
1. Chapter 1

The Piano

"We need as much furniture as you can throw down!" Courfeyrac shouted over the sounds of chaos. I did as I was told. I tossed what I could out of the windows on the second-storey buildings; I even kissed a woman for her chair. But I knew it wouldn't be enough.

I'm no psychic, but I could tell we were doomed from the start. Looking at Enjolras, I could tell he knew it in his heart as well.

After an hour of general property destruction, we all stood around the barricade, silent. No one dared to speak. I could hear footsteps from the other side of the buildings that made up the avenue, and I had a pretty strong feeling the opposers were coming.

"Grantaire!" My head snapped up at the sound of Enjolras' voice. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything. Polish your boots?" I replied with a smirk. He just rolled his eyes.

"I really hope you're sober, because I need you to find the whereabouts of our spy."

Looking at Enjolras, I could tell he was already stressed and ready to drop. We haven't started the fight, and he appeared to have been in battle for hours. And I saw something in those eyes that confused me. Terror. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was afraid.

I nodded and left the barricade. I raced to the other side of the avenue and hid behind a wall. I could see our spy, and Gavroche, who was hiding as well.

"The hell are you doing there...?" I muttered to myself. I couldn't hear anything, but I saw Gavroche's expression change. The spy was talking to the enemy. I think this would be a good idea to report.

Racing back to the barricade, I contemplated how to tell Enjolras that our spy was working for both sides.

I got through the mess of random boards and furniture, and was immediately bombarded with questions.

"What did you see?"

"Are they approaching?"

"How many of them were there?"

"You're really asking me? All I was told to do was find the spy. I wasn't told to count our opponent," I replied. Everyone looked a little disappointed at the fact that I didn't have all the answers, and Enjolras approached.

"So, where is he?"

"Um, Enjolras, can I talk to you in private? There's something I really need to tell you..." He cocked an eyebrow, and I pulled him to the opposite side of the barricade.

"Look, there's something you should know about the spy-" Gavroche cut me off by hopping over the top of the wall.

"'Jolras! It's about the spy! 'E's a-"

"He's back!" Joly shouted. We returned to the crowd to see the spy.

"Dirty rotten..." I muttered.

"What have you to say?" Enjolras asked the spy-turned-traitor.

"I have done what I said. I can tell what I remember. They intend to starve us out. They'll concentrate their force and hit us on the right."

I stepped forward to denounce him, but Gavroche was quick to the punch.

"LIAR! Good evenin' dear Inspectah! Lovely evenin', wouldn't you say?"

"Gavroche! What on earth are you talking about?" Enjolras demanded. Gavroche shrugged.

"'E's a liar. His name is Javert. He was lyin' to all of you. I saw him talkin' to the Guard, sayin' that we're dirty rebels and they'll get us within the day!"

Enjolras' eyes blazed. Javert attempted an escape, but Combferre and I restrained him before he could get away.

"Bravo, little Gavroche! Top of the class," I winked. Gavroche winked back; I think he knew I was spying on the traitor as well.

"What are we gonna do with this snake in the grass?" Jehan asked, his voice quite harsh.

"Shoot the bastard!" Courfeyrac shouted. Enjolras held up a hand, and the talking ceased.

"Tie him up. Take him to the tavern. I will let your people choose your fate." He turned away, but Javert spoke up.

"Shoot me now, for all I care! You won't have time to let the people choose my fate, you're not going to see June the seventh!" Javert retorted as he pushed against us.

"Take him! There is WORK we have to do!" Enjolras proclaimed. Combeferre and I did as our leader instructed.

Inside the tavern, Javert complied with our restraints. He made no complaint, but he said something that haunted me.

"Do you like music?" He asked as we banded his hands.

"Huh? Yes. I like to hear the piano. I can play a bit, but I usually just sit back and listen to the others. Why does it matter?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Why, you ask. Do you think you'll miss the piano in Hell?" Combeferre bound his legs, and I just laughed.

"Yes, I do believe I will. But I heard the Devil can play a mean fiddle."

As we left Javert to his thoughts, I couldn't stop the shiver that ran down my spine. Will we end up in Hell? I wouldn't be surprised if I was damned, but the others? I almost prayed they wouldn't get screwed out of their salvation.

"Capital-R? Is something wrong?" Combeferre inquired. I shook my head, and we didn't speak again.

We returned to the group, and Enjolras was pacing about, trying to analyze our next method of attack. The marching grew louder and louder.

I looked about the band of misfits that we had. Jehan was writing in a notebook, Joly was preparing medical supplies, Courfeyrac was reading the Bible, and Bossuet was setting up our ammunition. I was going to miss them.

"I come here as a volunteer!" A voice called on the other side of the barricade. All of us snapped to attention and forgot about their previous task. We brought the man inside, and we all caught him at gunpoint. The man held up his hands to prove he had no weapons.

"You wear an army uniform. Why?" Jehan took the words out of Enjolras' mouth.

"They have all the roads blocked. I was let through only because I wore the military jacket."

"They're getting ready to attack!" Joly called from the top of the barricade. He scrambled back down, and we all scattered and looked for weapons.

"Take a musket. Use it well. But if you betray us, you too shall share the fate of our enemies."

The National Guard stood at the end of the street, ready. We stationed ourselves on the barricade, and the silence overtook us all. I shut my eyes and prayed I would hear the piano afterwards.

"Who goes there?" A strong voice broke the silence. We couldn't see who was speaking, which made everything eerie and dark.

Enjolras said a speedy and silent prayer, then raised his eyes and replied: "French Revolution."

"FIRE!" The mysterious voice called. There was an explosion, and the war began.

We fought strongly for about an hour, and I soon noticed that the opposing side was scaling the barricade to get to us. And once again, someone beat me to it.

"Fall back, or I blow up the barricade!" Marius, the lovesick Bonapartist stated. He had a torch and a small powder keg in his hands. That idiot.

"The barricade and yourself with it!" The man on the opposing side sneered.

"And myself with it." Marius' voice was heavy with a sort of unknown grief, and he lowered the torch. In that moment, Enjolras dashed forward and pulled the torch out of his hands. The National Guard fell back and the fighting ceased.

"Marius, are you mad?! My life is not yours to take!" Combferre shouted at him as he yanked the powder keg away from Marius. The boy just shook his head and made a beeline for a girl who was sitting at the foot of the barricade.

The girl, Éponine Thérnardier, pulled a gun that was aimed at Marius away, and she took the bullet instead. She loved the boy. I shook my head and sat down.

I watched as Marius saw her wound and called for help. I stood, and Éponine hushed Marius. He was on the verge of tears, and Éponine tried to calm him. She must have been in serious pain; she was shivering, and her face was twisted. But she spoke sweetly of flowers and begged Marius of his protection. Marius held her close and tried to reassure her.

"And rain..."

"Rain will make flowers...grow." Marius finished her sentence as she breathed her last.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and sobbed bitterly. At least now he saw her as a person, and not a messenger. Combeferre took the body away from him and set her in the tavern.

I felt tears sting in my eyes. A seventeen year old girl just died in the name of love. It scared me to see that something as scary as death didn't deter this girl from saving Marius.

I walked about the barricade, and my eyes fell upon something very surprising, and sad. A piano. The strings were broken, keys were missing, and the thing was in complete disrepair. It wasn't standing, and bullet holes obstructed the sides of it. I sat down next to it and tapped a couple of the keys absent-mindedly. The barricade was silent; the first death of the barricade has occurred.

"She will not have died in vain. Éponine was a woman of strong character, and we fight here in her name," Enjolras declared somberly. Marius nodded his thanks.

Shutting my eyes, I tried to remember why we were fighting in the first place. Marius was fighting for Éponine. Enjolras was fighting for an actual, substantial reason. I was fighting for an instrument. We were all stupid.

"Courfeyrac, you take the watch. They won't attack until tomorrow. Everybody, listen up. One death will not ruin our chances. As certain as the sun will rise, we are not alone. The people of the Republic will join us."

"Bullcrap," I muttered under my breath.

"_Drink with me, to days gone by, sing with me, the songs we knew_," Feuilly sang with a clear voice. This old drinking song was a favorite among all of us, so the others didn't hesitate to join in.

"_Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads_," Jehan added.

"_Here's to witty girls who went to our beds_," Joly followed.

"_Here's to them, and here's to you_." They finished, and I took it upon myself to continue.

"_Drink with me, to days gone by. Can it be...you fear to die_?" I stood and changed a verse.

"Grantaire, that's enough!" Enjolras roared, but I persisted.

"_Will the world remember you when you fall? Can it be, your death means nothing at all? Is your life just one more lie_?"

I sat back at the damaged piano and tapped the keys again. The others shook their heads and finished the song like normal. I felt Enjolras' glare, and I waited for his inevitable scolding. He walked over and sat next to me.

"What the hell were you thinking? They sang to boost their spirits, only to have them crash down by your rendition." He crossed his arms, and I looked away.

"I was thinking they needed a wake-up call. We will fail, Enjolras. You're not stupid, you know it too."

"We don't have time for your skepticism, R. We just need to wait for the people."

"They're not going to come. They are afraid, and you know all about the folly of mankind. They won't stand for something they think will get them killed." Once I said this, I immediately regretted it. The look on Enjolras' face changed from anger to sorrow.

"Then why do you stay, citizen of mankind?" He looked away.

"I believe in you. People have no trouble dying for God. I have no trouble dying for you."

Enjolras stood and walked away. I blinked away my tears and tapped the piano, pretending that I could make a noise come out of it. I ran my hand across the keyboard, and I heard a note. I did it again, and it stopped at an F.

Failure?

Folly?

Fix it, Grantaire.

I followed my advice and went into the Café. I sat at one of the tables upstairs and pondered how I would make it up to them.

"You'll make it up to them by staying out of their way. They're better off without you," I muttered bitterly to myself. I laid my head on the table and said a silent prayer for the safety of the fighters.

"God? If you're listening, please bring those worthy men to their homes after we're done here. If I die, damn me. I deserve it for my cowardice."

* * *

"Take aim!" As I hear this, my head snapped up. In the upstairs room of the Café Musain, the place where we formed the Revolution, our great leader was about to be killed.

"W-Wait!" Not really knowing what I was doing, I spoke up. The members of the National Guard dropped their weapons and turned towards me. Enjolras' eyes, previously ablaze, were extinguished. His hard expression was somewhat relieved.

"Who are you, rebel?" The sergeant asked.

"No one important. Take me and the leader. Two birds with one stone." I stood next to Enjolras and asked of him, "Do you permit it?"

With a smile, Enjolras shook my hand.

We didn't have time to break the handshake. The sound of the gunshots were deafening. I could see Enjolras fall through the window, still clutching his red flag. I felt myself back up against the wall. I was pinned to it, all I could do was lower my head.

I shut my eyes, but the bright white light never came. So what was it that I got? Purgatory? Or was I really going to Hell? I didn't hear a fiddle, that's for sure. Or was there nothing?

* * *

The faint sound of a piano met my ears. I opened my eyes and was forced to squint. It was insanely bright where I was.

"Am I in Heaven...?" I croaked softly. The music stopped. A girl that I have never seen before raced to my bedside. She had blonde hair that had a slight wave in it, and deep blue eyes that were almost gray. She was very petite and had a pale complexion. The only thing that messed it all up was her expression of worry.

"Heaven? Sorry, Monsieur, but you're on good old Planet Earth." Her voice was soft and sweet, and I managed to smile with a bit of effort.

I felt a wet cloth dab at my forehead, and I spoke again. "But of course it's Heaven. Why would you be here if it wasn't?"

"Quiet, Monsieur. You could wake my family."

"And your name would be?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I will tell you another time. Now hush. You're overworking your body."

"W-Wait. One last question. What's the date?"

"June the twenty-ninth. You were in a coma. Now rest."

I chuckled. "I've been asleep for twenty-two days. I think I've got enough rest."

The young woman left my side and returned to the piano. She played softly, and I quickly fell asleep. Against my protests, of course. Though I was unconscious, I noticed that the she didn't stop playing the whole night.

* * *

**Ok, so I planned on keeping this as a one-shot, but if you want, I can make it a series. Please tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Violet! It's time for dinner!" Someone shouted from downstairs. I cracked an eye open when the music stopped. The girl, whom I presumed would be Violet, left the piano. It amazed me that she knows how much I love this music.

"Violet, huh? Pretty name for a pretty poppet," I said with a chuckle. She whirled around at my voice.

"I thought you were asleep," she mumbled, her cheeks red.

"Then why are you playing piano all night? Don't you tire of it? Or run out of things to play? And now that I know your name, I figure I should tell you mine. I am Remy Grantaire."

"Nice to finally know. And if you have enough of an imagination, you won't run out of music." Her cheeks grew a deeper red, and she left swiftly. God, are women confusing. They get freaked out over the strangest things. I'm sure guys like Combeferre would under-

Combeferre. Joly. Jehan. Enjolras. All of my other close friends. Where were they?

"Merde..." I muttered to myself. I have a pretty good feeling where they might be, but thinking about it makes me nauseous. "Please, please be ok..." I prayed and prayed.

"Monsieur Remy? I have food for you. I'm just happy you're conscious. Sure makes it easier to feed you!" Violet startled me an hour after she left with her cheery voice. I nodded and looked away, and that look of worry crossed her face again. "Are you ok? Is something bothering you?" She set the tray of food on the nightstand and kneeled next to me.

"The others! The others, where are they?" My words were rushed and panicky. Violet wouldn't meet my eyes.

"I didn't see any others. I'm sorry."

Rage grew inside me. "What do you mean?! How did you find ME?! How did you take ME here?!"

Tears appeared in Violet's eyes, and she shrunk away from me. "I-I was asked to help c-clean the square. I was the only one u-upstairs, a-and I saw you and a b-blond man. I thought you were d-dead, but you had a heartbeat. I didn't think to check the b-blond one. I-I'm sorry!"

"So...you're telling me, you saw two people...and you only checked ONE OF THEM for SIGNS OF LIFE?!" As I shouted, she dashed over to the chair in the corner of the room.

"I-I said I was sorry!" She gasped out. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Well, sorry doesn't sweeten my tea." Once I fully realized how scared I'd made her, I relaxed. Something pretty scary must've happened to her so she'd act like this. She didn't respond, she just curled up on the chair and muffled a sob with her hand. I've shaken her this much?

"Violet…" She turned to me, looking like a frightened mouse. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. It was unnecessary. If it makes you feel any better, each of my bullet wounds feel like they're getting shot yet again." She wiped her cheeks off and moved toward me.

"Are you alright? You should probably eat; your food is getting cold." Her eyes looked like shattered glass. I felt bad for yelling at her.

"Sure. Food would be good," I mumbled. She helped me eat some sort of soup, and soon after I was done, she took the dishes and disappeared downstairs.

* * *

Violet's POV

When Remy yelled, he took on a whole other personality. He was injured and battered, yet he still managed to scare the daylights out of me. I hated to make others upset.

I dropped the dishes off in the kitchen and raced outside. Not caring how long it would take me, I vowed to myself to find out about the other revolutionaries. I clutched a pencil and a small piece of paper to write the names.

The sky was dark when I got to the graveyard. Lucky for me, they had a lantern I could use at the entrance of the yard. I wasn't afraid to be alone here, which was quite surprising.

I hummed a soft melody as I searched for the graves with flags on them. Those with flags died in a battle, so they would be my best bet. The National Guard members that died in battle had a flag with a crucifix. Yet another example of their "Holier than thou" dispositions.

I spotted several of them, all sitting in a patch. "Marc Joly," I read aloud as I scribbled his name on the paper. "Léon Courfeyrac, Laurent Combeferre, Francis Bahorel, Lesgles, Alexandre Feuilly, Jean Prouvaire, Éponine Thérnardier, Gavroche Thérnardier."

I felt my eyes well up with tears as I saw how many friends Remy has lost. One of them was a teenager, and one of them, a child! Reading the years on the Thérnardier graves was terrifying. Those poor people.

"How I wish I would've fought beside all of you," I murmured to the headstones, as if the people lying below them would hear me. Taking a deep breath, I rose and started back towards the entrance of the graveyard.

I set the lantern back and held the paper close to my chest. All of these civilians were slaughtered for what was right. The tears I tried to keep away spilled, and I ran home faster than when I came.

"Violet! There you are, you little brat! Where were you?!" My father shouted. I winced, like usual, and made up an excuse.

"I was summoned to the neighbor's home to help out. I apologize for going without consent." I raced upstairs before he could come over and hit me.

At this point, I was used to daily hits. I just bit my lip and took it, but I learned that, if I escaped to my room, my father wouldn't bother with it.

I wiped the tears I cried over the rebels off my cheeks, put on a reverent smile, and walked into my room. Thank God Remy is quiet; my father doesn't exactly know he is here.

"You were gone for a while. I wanted to apologize for lashing out, I-" I held up a hand and stopped him.

"Your reaction was justifiable. I understand. And I have something for you."

"What would that be?" He raised an eyebrow. I moved to his bedside and sat.

"Marc Joly, Léon Courfeyrac, Laurent Combeferre, Francis Bahorel, Lesgles, Alexandre Feuilly, Jean Prouvaire, Éponine Thérnardier, Gavroche Thérnardier. Those are the names of the dead. I took a trip to the graveyard and wrote down the names of the rebels with 1832 as their last year." I bit my lip and waited for his reaction. His eyes filled with tears, and a heart-shattering sob escaped his lips.

"N-No...no...t-they were t-too good to die!" Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, and he covered his eyes with his hands. I sat next to him on the bed and held him, while being wary of his injuries.

"I'm sorry, my dear friend...I'm sorry...everything will be ok, everything will be alright...they are with God, they are happier now...they wouldn't want you to be so sad..." I said softly. I tried to reassure him, but he didn't stop crying. It was understandable, and I knew that I didn't really help. I pressed a kiss to his forehead and continued to soothe him.

* * *

About a half hour, his crying slowed. He was calming down, but I continued to hold him. Remy needed it, or that's what I guessed.

"I-I'm sorry..." He murmured. I pressed another platonic kiss to his forehead.

"Don't be, Remy. You lost your closest friends. It is understood."

"M-May I see that list?" I took the scrap of paper off of the nightstand and handed it to him.

He whispered all the names under his breath, then spoke up.

"Something is wrong...a couple of these are missing. Marius Pontmercy and Lucien Enjolras. Did you see those?"

I pondered it for a moment, then replied. "I'm afraid not. Who knows? They could be alive!" I moved off the bed and sat back on the floor. His face was blank and his voice monotone. He was in shock.

"That couldn't be. It would never happen." He started biting on his fingernail nervously. "Oh, it will be awful to see Enjolras' reaction when he finds out about the...d-deaths. Enjolras was our leader. The marble lover of Liberty, and a pretty good friend of mine. He cared for these people like they were his own family." Remy's eyes filled with tears again, but he didn't let them spill.

"You have had a long day. You should get some sleep; the shock isn't helping your wounds."

I made sure he was comfortable, blew out the candles, and returned to my sanctuary; the piano. Now that I knew Remy liked my playing, I made sure to keep going for him.

"V-Violet?" I heard him whisper.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for helping me. I'm...scared. But you made me feel safe." Forgetting about the piano, I made my way back to the bed. I held him like I did earlier, and we both fell asleep. We both were protected now.

* * *

Ok, so I know I said I'd wait for people's reaction before I'd post another chapter, but I just got the writing bug, so I figured I'd forget that and just write another chapter.


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